


The Aftermath

by Windymon



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Both of them get to do comforting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth Spoilers, based off of beta content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 07:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14491425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windymon/pseuds/Windymon
Summary: Lor'themar returns not entirely unscathed to Silvermoon after The Battle for The Undercity and Rommath has some words for him.





	The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Playing fast and loose with what canon content we know about this event thus far.

Sometimes Lor'themar wished the Grand Magister wasn't so damn perceptive. But now there was a firm grip around his right wrist and it took all of his self control not to cry out in pain.

"What did you do, Theron?" Rommath said, giving him a hard stare, the kind that felt it should burn a hole through the nearest wall, all the way out into the light of the Court of the Sun.

Lor'themar said nothing, but he let himself be led, like a disobedient child into Rommath's private, hidden rooms.

As soon as the protective enchantments were back in place, Rommath pulled away the glove and rolled up his sleeve to expose the bandages he'd been trying to hide.

"And now I ask you again, what did you do?" the Grand Magister said, his eyes about as friendly as the rolling clouds of an approaching thunderstorm.

It was only when he made motions to unravel the bandages that Lor'themar pulled back and let the words spill forth.

"There was a canister of Blight that had landed much too close to my rangers,”he began, cradling his hand in his left. "It had not gone off yet, so I quickly picked it up and threw it as far away as I could."

He looked up to study Rommath's expression, still stern and stone faced, as if he was a pupil, explaining why he had not quite managed to do his homework as he should have.

"And then about half way up in the air it went off."

Rommath's face suddenly lost all its color and he quickly grabbed hold of him, his left arm this time, thankfully.

"By the Light, please tell me you didn't..." Rommath's voice was fraying slightly at the edges, his eyes looking haunted in his pale face.

Lor'themar shook his head, reliving the moment himself and remembering his own fear, clawing deep into his chest.

"No, thank the Light, no... I did not inhale anything, nor did it touch me", he said, shaking his head. "The canister did have some residue on it, however..."

He held out his right hand, offering it now for Rommath to see.

With hands that were almost, but not quite steady the Grand Magister took a much gentler hold of it now, as if he was truly seeing it for the first time.

"Is it?..." he said, looking at him now with eyes like melting ice, a sight about as rare as the weather phenomenon was in Quel'thalas.

"I had an veritable army of priests, as well as a handful of Blood Knight shower me with Light as soon as I was within their grasp", Lor'themar said wearily. "Then they let the healers at it, scraping away the offending tissue and smearing it with this thing and that, telling me to keep it dry and protected for a few days."

Rommath shoulders heaved ever so slightly, his fingers tracing the lines of the linen bandages carefully.

"Why must you do this to me?" he hissed, barely audible.

"It's going to be fine, Rommath,” Lor'themar assured him. "Better than the poor souls that got the full brunt of it."

For a moment Lor'themar let his anger flare back up inside him, closing his eye tightly, willing away the imagery of the screaming Horde soldiers as they turned against their will into shambling abominations, all a part of Sylvanas’ deplorable exit strategy.

Suddenly there was a hand touching his face, grazing his cheek, resting lightly against his forehead and he cracked open his eye to see Rommath with a worried crease between his eyebrows.

"You're warm,” he said. "Are you sure the healers knew what they were doing, I could brew something..."

"I told you, it's fine,” Lor'themar said, taking Rommath's hand in his left, a queer feeling to be unable to use his dominant hand for once. "They told me some fever is expected as my body heals, and they poured enough potions down my throat that I am quite sick of them by now."

He paused, realizing that he had expected Rommath to be angrier with him, to yell and curse and tell him what an idiot he was. When the Grand Magister did open his mouth again, there was no real bite to his words.

"Perhaps you'll finally learn something this time,” he said with a sneer, making no effort to reclaim his hand.

"I think I might have learned not to trust our Warchief further than I can throw her,” he said. "Maybe about as far as a canister of Blight?"

He tried to crack a grin, to lighten the mood slightly.

Instead Rommath pounced on him like an enraged Lynx, hands digging into the exposed fabric of his shirt underneath the mail and armor.

"You could have died, you fool!" he said, his famed temper finally making an appearance, causing the tattoos on his arms to flare bright with suppressed power. "Did you even think about the potential consequences when you picked up that canister?! What if it had gone off in your hand?!"

Lor'themar tried to speak, but Rommath gave a harsh jerk, shaking him so hard it made his teeth rattle.

"Do you have any idea what that would have done to us... To me?!"

After another rough shake, Rommath finally let him go, the light of his tattoos dimming.

"After Kael'thas, I told myself I would not expose myself so to another person,” the Grand Magister said, his voice barely more than a sigh. "You infuriating man..."

Lor'themar almost forgot himself and raised his right hand at first, but then he used his left hand to run a thumb against Rommath's perfectly shaped cheekbone. It came away wet.

"I'm sorry,” he said softly, letting his fingers gently trace the curve of Rommath's jawline, all the way to his chin where he let his hand rest. "I will endeavor to think things through in the future."

"If everyone would just do what I say, instead of--" Rommath began, then just let out another sigh and let his head drop to rest against Lor'themar's shoulder. His right, and it occurred to him then that Rommath had been so good these past few years, to always be on his right side. It filled his chest with a churning warmth, spreading slowly throughout his body.

"Shouldn't you been comforting me?" Lor’themar asked, even as he carefully draped his right arm around Rommath's waist. "I'm the one who's injured."

"I've been keeping things running while you were off failing to turn away the Alliance at the Undercity,” Rommath said, his voice muffled against his shoulder. "I have also been busy reworking the orb of translocation so hapless travelers won’t drop dead in a field of Blight."

"Isn't that what you always wanted?" Lor'themar said. "To be Lord Regent so I could go back to... 'traipsing about the forest to my heart's content'?"

"Don't you dare throw my words back in my face, Theron,” Rommath growled, momentarily raising his head off his shoulder. "Besides, that was years ago, it was a different time."

"Whatever you say,” Lor'themar said, letting a real smile spread across his face for the first time in much too long.

"I am coming with you next time,” Rommath said, turning his head slightly to lock eyes with his. "I don't trust you to not do something idiotically heroic again."

"You could always just chain me to my desk,” Lor'themar said. "That will keep me well out of harm’s way... Except for paper cuts I suppose. And harsh stares from the Grand Magister."

"Shut up,” Rommath said and raised his head again, only to press an angry kiss against his mouth, forcing his lips apart to deepen it.

Lor'themar was all too eager to follow that order.

**Author's Note:**

> First jump into this ship, but only when it comes to stories I've written myself. Hopefully there will be more with time.  
> Many thanks to the friendly beta assists from the disaster elves discord, notably flyingllamas.


End file.
